Monday
It's seven am and Darcy is on his couch, sipping his morning coffee. Outside everything is purple. February, he supposes it's dawn, or the idea of it.
He's thinking of Elizabeth Bennet.
Well, Darcy's sipping his coffee and thinking of Elizabeth Bennet. Coffee is important.
It's not romantic or anything of the sort. It's…surprising, is what it is. He dreamed of her, he thinks. And now Elizabeth is here, in his thoughts, like a ghost. Darcy barely talked to her at the party at Bingley's last night; he's not aware of paying her any special attention, but he must have, because he's drinking coffee with her right now and she doesn't even know it.
Elizabeth is…funny. Funny means clever. And that's all there is to it, really. Bingley moved to a new neighbourhood; he befriended Jane, a pretty girl from a questionable family; it turns out the sister of the pretty girl is cleverer than Darcy thought.
Yes, that's all. Outside, it's cold. The morning will be freezing. But Elizabeth's presence is warm.
The tricks our brains play on us.
Ah well. The sensation is weird, but pleasant. Just enjoy it till it lasts.
It will be gone soon enough.
Note : This is a writing experiment. This story will be written in very short instalments, I am aiming for 200 words each, so I will be posting often. I have Act One entirely written, there will be three acts, I think. :)